Hume Understanding 1738

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THE ONLINE LIBRARY OF LIBERTY

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DAVID HUME, (1748)AN ENQUIRY CONCERNING THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

David Hume was a moral philosopher and historian and a leading

member of the Scottish Enlightenment. In philosophy he was a

skeptic. In his multi-volume he showed how

the rule of law and the creation of an independent judiciary

created the foundation for liberty in England. Hume also wrote on

economics, was a personal friend of Adam Smith,and was a

proponent of free trade. His works highlighted the neutrality of

money and the errors of the mercantilists (whose flawed theories

in favor of increased exports in order to build up a stock of gold

remain the foundations of many public policies even today).

History of England

ABOUT THE BOOK

One of David Humes most important works of moral philosophy,

epistemology, and psychology which together with the

made up Humes "science of

man". They are a revised version of his earlier work

which appeared in 1739.

Enquiry

concerning the Principles of Morals

A Treatise of

Human Nature

THE EDITION USED

in Enquiries Concerning the Human Understanding and

Concerning the Principles of Morals by David Hume, ed. L. A.

Selby-Bigge, M.A. 2nd ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1902).

COPYRIGHT INFORMATIONThe text of this edition is in the public domain.

FAIR USE STATEMENT

This material is put online to further the educational goals of

Liberty Fund, Inc. Unless otherwise stated in the Copyright

Information section above, this material may be used freely for

educational and academic purposes. It may not be used in any

way for profit.

_______________________________________________________

TABLE OF CONTENTS

AN ENQUIRY HUMAN UNDERSTANDINGCONCERNING

SECTION I. OF THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF PHILOSOPHY.

SECTION II. OF THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS.

SECTION III. OF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.

SECTION IV. SCEPTICAL DOUBTS CONCERNING THE OPERATIONS OF THE UNDERSTANDING.

SECTION V. SCEPTICAL SOLUTION OF THESE DOUBTS.

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SECTION VI. .OFPROBABILITY

SECTION VII. OF THE IDEA OF NECESSARY CONNEXION.

I.PART

SECTION VIII. OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

SECTION IX. OF THE REASON OF ANIMALS.

SECTION X. OF MIRACLES.

SECTION XI. OF A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE AND OF A FUTURE STATE.

SECTION XII. OF THE ACADEMICAL OR SCEPTICAL PHILOSOPHY.

ENDNOTES

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DAVID HUME, (1748)AN ENQUIRY CONCERNING THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING

AN ENQUIRY HUMAN UNDERSTANDINGCONCERNING

SECTION I. OFTHEDIFFERENTSPECIESOFPHILOSOPHY.

philosophy, or the science of human nature, may be treated after two different manners; each of which has its peculiar

merit, and may contribute to the entertainment, instruction, and reformation of mankind. The one considers man chiefly as

born for action; and as influenced in his measures by taste and sentiment; pursuing one object, and avoiding another, according

to the value which these objects seem to possess, and according to the light in which they present themselves. As virtue, of all

objects, is allowed to be the most valuable, this species of philosophers paint her in the most amiable colours; borrowing all

helps from poetry and eloquence, and treating their subject in an easy and obvious manner, and such as is best fitted to please

the imagination, and engage the affections. They select the most striking observations and instances from common life; place

opposite characters in a proper contrast; and alluring us into the paths of virtue by the views of glory and happiness, direct our

steps in these paths by the soundest precepts and most illustrious examples. They make us the difference between vice

and virtue; they excite and regulate our sentiments; and so they can but bend our hearts to the love of probity and true

honour, they think, that they have fully attained the end of all their labours.

MORAL

feel

The other species of philosophers consider man in the light of a reasonable rather than an active being, and endeavour to form

his understanding more than cultivate his manners. They regard human nature as a subject of speculation; and with a narrow

scrutiny examine it, in order to find those principles, which regulate our understanding, excite our sentiments, and make us

approve or blame any particular object, action, or behaviour. They think it a reproach to all literature, that philosophy should

not yet have fixed, beyond controversy, the foundation of morals, reasoning, and criticism; and should for ever talk of truth

and falsehood, vice and virtue, beauty and deformity, without being able to determine the source of these distinctions. While

they attempt this arduous task, they are deterred by no difficulties; but proceeding from particular instances to general

principles, they still push on their enquiries to principles more general, and rest not satisfied till they arrive at those original

principles, by which, in every science, all human curiosity must be bounded. Though their speculations seem abstract, and evenunintelligible to common readers, they aim at the approbation of the learned and the wise; and think themselves sufficiently

compensated for the labour of their whole lives, if they can discover some hidden truths, which may contribute to the

instruction of posterity.

It is certain that the easy and obvious philosophy will always, with the generality of mankind, have the preference above the

accurate and abstruse; and by many will be recommended, not only as more agreeable, but more useful than the other. It

enters more into common life; moulds the heart and affections; and, by touching those principles which actuate men, reforms

their conduct, and brings them nearer to that model of perfection which it describes. On the contrary, the abstruse philosophy,

being founded on a turn of mind, which cannot enter into business and action, vanishes when the philosopher leaves the shade,

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and comes into open day; nor can its principles easily retain any influence over our conduct and behaviour. The feelings of our

heart, the agitation of our passions, the vehemence of our affections, dissipate all its conclusions, and reduce the profound

philosopher to a mere plebeian.

This also must be confessed, that the most durable, as well as justest fame, has been acquired by the easy philosophy, and

that abstract reasoners seem hitherto to have enjoyed only a momentary reputation, from the caprice or ignorance of their own

age, but have not been able to support their renown with more equitable posterity. It is easy for a profound philosopher to

commit a mistake in his subtile reasonings; and one mistake is the necessary parent of another, while he pushes on his

consequences, and is not deterred from embracing any conclusion, by its unusual appearance, or its contradiction to popular

opinion. But a philosopher, who purposes only to represent the common sense of mankind in more beautiful and more engaging

colours, if by accident he falls into error, goes no farther; but renewing his appeal to common sense, and the natural

sentiments of the mind, returns into the right path, and secures himself from any dangerous illusions. The fame of Cicero

flourishes at present; but that of Aristotle is utterly decayed. La Bruyere passes the seas, and still maintains his reputation:

But the glory of Malebranche is confined to his own nation, and to his own age. And Addison, perhaps, will be read with

pleasure, when Locke shall be entirely forgotten.

The mere philosopher is a character, which is commonly but little acceptable in the world, as being supposed to contribute

nothing either to the advantage or pleasure of society; while he lives remote from communication with mankind, and is

wrapped up in principles and notions equally remote from their comprehension. On the other hand, the mere ignorant is still

more despised; nor is any thing deemed a surer sign of an illiberal genius in an age and nation where the sciences flourish,

than to be entirely destitute of all relish for those noble entertainments. The most perfect character is supposed to lie between

those extremes; retaining an equal ability and taste for books, company, and business; preserving in conversation thatdiscernment and delicacy which arise from polite letters; and in business, that probity and accuracy which are the natural result

of a just philosophy. In order to diffuse and cultivate so accomplished a character, nothing can be more useful than

compositions of the easy style and manner, which draw not too much from life, require no deep application or retreat to be

comprehended, and send back the student among mankind full of noble sentiments and wise precepts, applicable to every

exigence of human life. By means of such compositions, virtue becomes amiable, science agreeable, company instructive, and

retirement entertaining.

Man is a reasonable being; and as such, receives from science his proper food and nourishment: But so narrow are the bounds

of human understanding, that little satisfaction can be hoped for in this particular, either from the extent of security or his

acquisitions. Man is a sociable, no less than a reasonable being: But neither can he always enjoy company agreeable and

amusing, or preserve the proper relish for them. Man is also an active being; and from that disposition, as well as from the

various necessities of human life, must submit to business and occupation: But the mind requires some relaxation, and cannotalways support its bent to care and industry. It seems, then, that nature has pointed out a mixed kind of life as most suitable

to the human race, and secretly admonished them to allow none of these biasses to too much, so as to incapacitate them

for other occupations and entertainments. Indulge your passion for science, says she, but let your science be human, and such

as may have a direct reference to action and society. Abstruse thought and profound researches I prohibit, and will severely

punish, by the pensive melancholy which they introduce, by the endless uncertainty in which they involve you, and by the cold

reception which your pretended discoveries shall meet with, when communicated. Be a philosopher; but, amidst all your

philosophy, be still a man.

draw

Were the generality of mankind contented to prefer the easy philosophy to the abstract and profound, without throwing any

blame or contempt on the latter, it might not be improper, perhaps, to comply with this general opinion, and allow every man

to enjoy, without opposition, his own taste and sentiment. But as the matter is often carried farther, even to the absolute

rejecting of all profound reasonings, or what is commonly called we shall now proceed to consider what can

reasonably be pleaded in their behalf.

metaphysics,

We may begin with observing, that one considerable advantage, which results from the accurate and abstract philosophy, is, its

subserviency to the easy and humane; which, without the former, can never attain a sufficient degree of exactness in its

sentiments, precepts, or reasonings. All polite letters are nothing but pictures of human life in various attitudes and situations;

and inspire us with different sentiments, of praise or blame, admiration or ridicule, according to the qualities of the object,

which they set before us. An artist must be better qualified to succeed in this undertaking, who, besides a delicate taste and a

quick apprehension, possesses an accurate knowledge of the internal fabric, the operations of the understanding, the workings

of the passions, and the various species of sentiment which discriminate vice and virtue. How painful soever this inward search

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or enquiry may appear, it becomes, in some measure, requisite to those, who would describe with success the obvious and

outward appearances of life and manners. The anatomist presents to the eye the most hideous and disagreeable objects; but

his science is useful to the painter in delineating even a Venus or an Helen. While the latter employs all the richest colours of

his art, and gives his figures the most graceful and engaging airs; he must still carry his attention to the inward structure of the

human body, the position of the muscles, the fabric of the bones, and the use and figure of every part or organ. Accuracy is, in

every case, advantageous to beauty, and just reasoning to delicate sentiment. In vain would we exalt the one by depreciating

the other.

Besides, we may observe, in every art or profession, even those which most concern life or action, that a spirit of accuracy,

however acquired, carries all of them nearer their perfection, and renders them more subservient to the interests of society.

And though a philosopher may live remote from business, the genius of philosophy, if carefully cultivated by several, must

gradually diffuse itself throughout the whole society, and bestow a similar correctness on every art and calling. The politician

will acquire greater foresight and subtility, in the subdividing and balancing of power; the lawyer more method and finer

principles in his reasonings; and the general more regularity in his discipline, and more caution in his plans and operations. The

stability of modern governments above the ancient, and the accuracy of modern philosophy, have improved, and probably will

still improve, by similar gradations.

Were there no advantage to be reaped from these studies, beyond the gratification of an innocent curiosity, yet ought not even

this to be despised; as being one accession to those few safe and harmless pleasures, which are bestowed on human race. The

sweetest and most inoffensive path of life leads through the avenues of science and learning; and whoever can either remove

any obstructions in this way, or open up any new prospect, ought so far to be esteemed a benefactor to mankind. And though

these researches may appear painful and fatiguing, it is with some minds as with some bodies, which being endowed withvigorous and florid health, require severe exercise, and reap a pleasure from what, to the generality of mankind, may seem

burdensome and laborious. Obscurity, indeed, is painful to the mind as well as to the eye; but to bring light from obscurity, by

whatever labour, must needs be delightful and rejoicing.

But this obscurity in the profound and abstract philosophy, is objected to, not only as painful and fatiguing, but as the

inevitable source of uncertainty and error. Here indeed lies the justest and most plausible objection against a considerable part

of metaphysics, that they are not properly a science; but arise either from the fruitless efforts of human vanity, which would

penetrate into subjects utterly inaccessible to the understanding, or from the craft of popular superstitions, which, being unable

to defend themselves on fair ground, raise these intangling brambles to cover and protect their weakness. Chaced from the

open country, these robbers fly into the forest, and lie in wait to break in upon every unguarded avenue of the mind, and

overwhelm it with religious fears and prejudices. The stoutest antagonist, if he remit his watch a moment, is oppressed. And

many, through cowardice and folly, open the gates to the enemies, and willingly receive them with reverence and submission,as their legal sovereigns.

But is this a sufficient reason, why philosophers should desist from such researches, and leave superstition still in possession of

her retreat? Is it not proper to draw an opposite conclusion, and perceive the necessity of carrying the war into the most secret

recesses of the enemy? In vain do we hope, that men, from frequent disappointment, will at last abandon such airy sciences,

and discover the proper province of human reason. For, besides, that many persons find too sensible an interest in perpetually

recalling such topics; besides this, I say, the motive of blind despair can never reasonably have place in the sciences; since,

however unsuccessful former attempts may have proved, there is still room to hope, that the industry, good fortune, or

improved sagacity of succeeding generations may reach discoveries unknown to former ages. Each adventurous genius will still

leap at the arduous prize, and find himself stimulated, rather that discouraged, by the failures of his predecessors; while he

hopes that the glory of achieving so hard an adventure is reserved for him alone. The only method of freeing learning, at once,

from these abstruse questions, is to enquire seriously into the nature of human understanding, and show, from an exact

analysis of its powers and capacity, that it is by no means fitted for such remote and abstruse subjects. We must submit to this

fatigue, in order to live at ease ever after: And must cultivate true metaphysics with some care, in order to destroy the false

and adulterate. Indolence, which, to some persons, affords a safeguard against this deceitful philosophy, is, with others,

overbalanced by curiosity; and despair, which, at some moments, prevails, may give place afterwards to sanguine hopes and

expectations. Accurate and just reasoning is the only catholic remedy, fitted for all persons and all dispositions; and is alone

able to subvert that abstruse philosophy and metaphysical jargon, which, being mixed up with popular superstition, renders it in

a manner impenetrable to careless reasoners, and gives it the air of science and wisdom.

Besides this advantage of rejecting, after deliberate enquiry, the most uncertain and disagreeable part of learning, there are

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many positive advantages, which result from an accurate scrutiny into the powers and faculties of human nature. It is

remarkable concerning the operations of the mind, that, though most intimately present to us, yet, whenever they become the

object of reflexion, they seem involved in obscurity; nor can the eye readily find those lines and boundaries, which discriminate

and distinguish them. The objects are too fine to remain long in the same aspect or situation; and must be apprehended in an

instant, by a superior penetration, derived from nature, and improved by habit and reflexion. It becomes, therefore, no

inconsiderable part of science barely to know the different operations of the mind, to separate them from each other, to class

them under their proper heads, and to correct all that seeming disorder, in which they lie involved, when made the object of

reflexion and enquiry. This talk of ordering and distinguishing, which has no merit, when performed with regard to external

bodies, the objects of our senses, rises in its value, when directed towards the operations of the mind, in proportion to the

difficulty and labour, which we meet with in performing it. And if we can go no farther than this mental geography, or

delineation of the distinct parts and powers of the mind, it is at least a satisfaction to go so far; and the more obvious this

science may appear (and it is by no means obvious) the more contemptible still must the ignorance of it be esteemed, in all

pretenders to learning and philosophy.

Nor can there remain any suspicion, that this science is uncertain and chimerical; unless we should entertain such a scepticism

as is entirely subversive of all speculation, and even action. It cannot be doubted, that the mind is endowed with several

powers and faculties, that these powers are distinct from each other, that what is really distinct to the immediate perception

may be distinguished by reflexion; and consequently, that there is a truth and falsehood in all propositions on this subject, and

a truth and falsehood, which lie not beyond the compass of human understanding. There are many obvious distinctions of this

kind, such as those between the will and understanding, the imagination and passions, which fall within the comprehension of

every human creature; and the finer and more philosophical distinctions are no less real and certain, though more difficult to be

comprehended. Some instances, especially late ones, of success in these enquiries, may give us a juster notion of the certainty

and solidity of this branch of learning. And shall we esteem it worthy the labour of a philosopher to give us a true system of

the planets, and adjust the position and order of those remote bodies; while we affect to overlook those, who, with so much

success, delineate the parts of the mind, in which we are so intimately concerned?

But may we not hope, that philosophy, if cultivated with care, and encouraged by the attention of the public, may carry its

researches still farther, and discover, at least in some degree, the secret springs and principles, by which the human mind is

actuated in its operations? Astronomers had long contented themselves with proving, from the phaenomena, the true motions,

order, and magnitude of the heavenly bodies: Till a philosopher, at last, arose, who seems, from the happiest reasoning, to

have also determined the laws and forces, by which the revolutions of the planets are governed and directed. The like has been

performed with regard to other parts of nature. And there is no reason to despair of equal success in our enquiries concerning

the mental powers and economy, if prosecuted with equal capacity and caution. It is probable, that one operation and principle

of the mind depends on another; which, again, may be resolved into one more general and universal: And how far theseresearches may possibly be carried, it will be difficult for us, before, or even after, a careful trial, exactly to determine. This is

certain, that attempts of this kind are every day made even by those who philosophize the most negligently: And nothing can

be more requisite than to enter upon the enterprize with thorough care and attention; that, if it lie within the compass of

human understanding, it may at last be happily achieved; if not, it may, however, be rejected with some confidence and

security. This last conclusion, surely, is not desirable; nor ought it to be embraced too rashly. For how much must we diminish

from the beauty and value of this species of philosophy, upon such a supposition? Moralists have hitherto been accustomed,

when they considered the vast multitude and diversity of those actions that excite our approbation or dislike, to search for

some common principle, on which this variety of sentiments might depend. And though they have sometimes carried the

matter too far, by their passion for some one general principle; it must, however, be confessed, that they are excusable in

expecting to find some general principles, into which all the vices and virtues were justly to be resolved. The like has been the

endeavour of critics, logicians, and even politicians: Nor have their attempts been wholly unsuccessful; though perhaps longer

time, greater accuracy, and more ardent application may bring these sciences still nearer their perfection. To throw up at onceall pretensions of this kind may justly be deemed more rash, precipitate, and dogmatical, than even the boldest and most

affirmative philosophy, that has ever attempted to impose its crude dictates and principles on mankind.

What though these reasonings concerning human nature seem abstract, and of difficult comprehension? This affords no

presumption of their falsehood. On the contrary, it seems impossible, that what has hitherto escaped so many wise and

profound philosophers can be very obvious and easy. And whatever pains these researches may cost us, we may think

ourselves sufficiently rewarded, not only in point of profit but of pleasure, if, by that means, we can make any addition to our

stock of knowledge, in subjects of such unspeakable importance.

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But as, after all, the abstractedness of these speculations is no recommendation, but rather a disadvantage to them, and as

this difficulty may perhaps be surmounted by care and art, and the avoiding of all unnecessary detail, we have, in the following

enquiry, attempted to throw some light upon subjects, from which uncertainty has hitherto deterred the wise, and obscurity the

ignorant. Happy, if we can unite the boundaries of the different species of philosophy, by reconciling profound enquiry with

clearness, and truth with novelty! And still more happy, if, reasoning in this easy manner, we can undermine the foundations of

an abstruse philosophy, which seems to have hitherto served only as a shelter to superstition, and a cover to absurdity and

error!

SECTION II. OFTHEORIGINOFIDEAS.

one will readily allow, that there is a considerable difference between the perceptions of the mind, when a man feels the

pain of excessive heat, or the pleasure of moderate warmth, and when he afterwards recalls to his memory this sensation, or

anticipates it by his imagination. These faculties may mimic or copy the perceptions of the senses; but they never can entirely

reach the force and vivacity of the original sentiment. The utmost we say of them, even when they operate with greatest

vigour, is, that they represent their object in so lively a manner, that we could say we feel or see it: But, except the

mind be disordered by disease or madness, they never can arrive at such a pitch of vivacity, as to render these perceptions

altogether undistinguishable. All the colours of poetry, however splendid, can never paint natural objects in such a manner as to

make the description be taken for a real landskip. The most lively thought is still inferior to the dullest sensation.

EVERY

almost

We may observe a like distinction to run through all the other perceptions of the mind. A man in a fit of anger, is actuated in a

very different manner from one who only thinks of that emotion. If you tell me, that any person is in love, I easily understand

your meaning, and form a just conception of his situation; but never can mistake that conception for the real disorders and

agitations of the passion. When we reflect on our past sentiments and affections, our thought is a faithful mirror, and copies its

objects truly; but the colours which it employs are faint and dull, in comparison of those in which our original perceptions were

clothed. It requires no nice discernment or metaphysical head to mark the distinction between them.

Here therefore we may divide all the perceptions of the mind into two classes or species, which are distinguished by their

different degrees of force and vivacity. The less forcible and lively are commonly denominated or The other

species want a name in our language, and in most others; I suppose, because it was not requisite for any, but philosophical

purposes, to rank them under a general term or appellation. Let us, therefore, use a little freedom, and call them

employing that word in a sense somewhat different from the usual. By the term then, I mean all our more lively

perceptions, when we hear, or see, or feel, or love, or hate, or desire, or will. And impressions are distinguished from ideas,

which are the less lively perceptions, of which we are conscious, when we reflect on any of those sensations or movements

above mentioned.

Thoughts Ideas.

Impressions;

impression,

Nothing, at first view, may seem more unbounded than the thought of man, which not only escapes all human power and

authority, but is not even restrained within the limits of nature and reality. To form monsters, and join incongruous shapes and

appearances, costs the imagination no more trouble than to conceive the most natural and familiar objects. And while the body

is confined to one planet, along which it creeps with pain and difficulty; the thought can in an instant transport us into the most

distant regions of the universe; or even beyond the universe, into the unbounded chaos, where nature is supposed to lie in total

confusion. What never was seen, or heard of, may yet be conceived; nor is any thing beyond the power of thought, except

what implies an absolute contradiction.

But though our thought seems to possess this unbounded liberty, we shall find, upon a nearer examination, that it is really

confined within very narrow limits, and that all this creative power of the mind amounts to no more than the faculty of

compounding, transposing, augmenting, or diminishing the materials afforded us by the senses and experience. When we think

of a golden mountain, we only join two consistent ideas, and with which we were formerly acquainted. A

virtuous horse we can conceive; because, from our own feeling, we can conceive virtue; and this we may unite to the figure

and shape of a horse, which is an animal familiar to us. In short, all the materials of thinking are derived either from our

outward or inward sentiment: the mixture and composition of these belongs alone to the mind and will. Or, to express myself

in philosophical language, all our ideas or more feeble perceptions are copies of our impressions or more lively ones.

gold, mountain,

To prove this, the two following arguments will, I hope, be sufficient. First, when we analyze our thoughts or ideas, however

compounded or sublime, we always find that they resolve themselves into such simple ideas as were copied from a precedent

feeling or sentiment. Even those ideas, which, at first view, seem the most wide of this origin, are found, upon a nearer

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scrutiny, to be derived from it. The idea of God, as meaning an infinitely intelligent, wise, and good Being, arises from

reflecting on the operations of our own mind, and augmenting, without limit, those qualities of goodness and wisdom. We may

prosecute this enquiry to what length we please; where we shall always find, that every idea which we examine is copied from

a similar impression. Those who would assert that this position is not universally true nor without exception, have only one, and

that an easy method of refuting it; by producing that idea, which, in their opinion, is not derived from this source. It will then

be incumbent on us, if we would maintain our doctrine, to produce the impression, or lively perception, which corresponds to it.

Secondly. If it happen, from a defect of the organ, that a man is not susceptible of any species of sensation, we always find

that he is as little susceptible of the correspondent ideas. A blind man can form no notion of colours; a deaf man of sounds.

Restore either of them that sense in which he is deficient; by opening this new inlet for his sensations, you also open an inlet

for the ideas; and he finds no difficulty in conceiving these objects. The case is the same, if the object, proper for exciting any

sensation, has never been applied to the organ. A Laplander or Negro has no notion of the relish of wine. And though there are

few or no instances of a like deficiency in the mind, where a person has never felt or is wholly incapable of a sentiment or

passion that belongs to his species; yet we find the same observation to take place in a less degree. A man of mild manners

can form no idea of inveterate revenge or cruelty; nor can a selfish heart easily conceive the heights of friendship and

generosity. It is readily allowed, that other beings may possess many senses of which we can have no conception; because the

ideas of them have never been introduced to us in the only manner by which an idea can have access to the mind, to wit, by

the actual feeling and sensation.

There is, however, one contradictory phenomenon, which may prove that it is not absolutely impossible for ideas to arise,

independent of their correspondent impressions. I believe it will readily be allowed, that the several distinct ideas of colour,

which enter by the eye, or those of sound, which are conveyed by the ear, are really different from each other; though, at thesame time, resembling. Now if this be true of different colours, it must be no less so of the different shades of the same

colour; and each shade produces a distinct idea, independent of the rest. For if this should be denied, it is possible, by the

continual gradation of shades, to run a colour insensibly into what is most remote from it; and if you will not allow any of the

means to be different, you cannot, without absurdity, deny the extremes to be the same. Suppose, therefore, a person to have

enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and to have become perfectly acquainted with colours of all kinds except one particular shade

of blue, for instance, which it never has been his fortune to meet with. Let all the different shades of that colour, except that

single one, be placed before him, descending gradually from the deepest to the lightest; it is plain that he will perceive a

blank, where that shade is wanting, and will be sensible that there is a greater distance in that place between the contiguous

colours than in any other. Now I ask, whether it be possible for him, from his own imagination, to supply this deficiency, and

raise up to himself the idea of that particular shade, though it had never been conveyed to him by his senses? I believe there

are few but will be of opinion that he can: and this may serve as a proof that the simple ideas are not always, in every

instance, derived from the correspondent impressions; though this instance is so singular, that it is scarcely worth ourobserving, and does not merit that for it alone we should alter our general maxim.

Here, therefore, is a proposition, which not only seems, in itself, simple and intelligible; but, if a proper use were made of it,

might render every dispute equally intelligible, and banish all that jargon, which has so long taken possession of metaphysical

reasonings, and drawn disgrace upon them. All ideas, especially abstract ones, are naturally faint and obscure: the mind has

but a slender hold of them: they are apt to be confounded with other resembling ideas; and when we have often employed any

term, though without a distinct meaning, we are apt to imagine it has a determinate idea annexed to it. On the contrary, all

impressions, that is, all sensations, either outward or inward, are strong and vivid: the limits between them are more exactly

determined: nor is it easy to fall into any error or mistake with regard to them. When we entertain, therefore, any suspicion

that a philosophical term is employed without any meaning or idea (as is but too frequent), we need but enquire,

And if it be impossible to assign any, this will serve to confirm our suspicion. By

bringing ideas into so clear a light we may reasonably hope to remove all dispute, which may arise, concerning their nature and

reality .

from what

impression is that supposed idea derived?

1

SECTION III. OFTHEASSOCIATIONOFIDEAS.

is evident that there is a principle of connexion between the different thoughts or ideas of the mind, and that, in their

appearance to the memory or imagination, they introduce each other with a certain degree of method and regularity. In our

more serious thinking or discourse this is so observable that any particular thought, which breaks in upon the regular tract or

chain of ideas, is immediately remarked and rejected. And even in our wildest and most wandering reveries, nay in our very

dreams, we shall find, if we reflect, that the imagination ran not altogether at adventures, but that there was still a connexion

IT

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upheld among the different ideas, which succeeded each other. Were the loosest and freest conversation to be transcribed,

there would immediately be observed something which connected it in all its transitions. Or where this is wanting, the person

who broke the thread of discourse might still inform you, that there had secretly revolved in his mind a succession of thought,

which had gradually led him from the subject of conversation. Among different languages, even where we cannot suspect the

least connexion or communication, it is found, that the words, expressive of ideas, the most compounded, do yet nearly

correspond to each other: a certain proof that the simple ideas, comprehended in the compound ones, were bound together by

some universal principle, which had an equal influence on all mankind.

Though it be too obvious to escape observation, that different ideas are connected together; I do not find that any philosopher

has attempted to enumerate or class all the principles of association; a subject, however, that seems worthy of curiosity. To

me, there appear to be only three principles of connexion among ideas, namely, in time

or place, and or

Resemblance, Contiguity

Cause Effect.

That these principles serve to connect ideas will not, I believe, be much doubted. A picture naturally leads our thoughts to the

original : the mention of one apartment in a building naturally introduces an enquiry or discourse concerning the others : and if

we think of a wound, we can scarcely forbear reflecting on the pain which follows it . But that this enumeration is complete,

and that there are no other principles of association except these, may be difficult to prove to the satisfaction of the reader, or

even to a mans own satisfaction. All we can do, in such cases, is to run over several instances, and examine carefully the

principle which binds the different thoughts to each other, never stopping till we render the principle as general as possible .

The more instances we examine, and the more care we employ, the more assurance shall we acquire, that the enumeration,

which we form from the whole, is complete and entire.

1 2

3

4

SECTION IV. SCEPTICALDOUBTSCONCERNINGTHEOPERATIONSOFTHEUNDERSTANDING.

I.PART

the objects of human reason or enquiry may naturally be divided into two kinds, to wit, and

Of the first kind are the sciences of Geometry, Algebra, and Arithmetic; and in short, every affirmation which is either

intuitively or demonstratively certain. is a

proposition which expresses a relation between these figures. expresses a

relation between these numbers. Propositions of this kind are discoverable by the mere operation of thought, without

dependence on what is anywhere existent in the universe. Though there never were a circle or triangle in nature, the truths

demonstrated by Euclid would for ever retain their certainty and evidence.

ALL Relations of Ideas, Matters of

Fact.

That the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the square of the two sides,

That three times five is equal to the half of thirty,

Matters of fact, which are the second objects of human reason, are not ascertained in the same manner; nor is our evidence

of their truth, however great, of a like nature with the foregoing. The contrary of every matter of fact is still possible;

because it can never imply a contradiction, and is conceived by the mind with the same facility and distinctness, as if ever so

conformable to reality. is no less intelligible a proposition, and implies no more

contradiction than the affirmation, We should in vain, therefore, attempt to demonstrate its falsehood. Were

it demonstratively false, it would imply a contradiction, and could never be distinctly conceived by the mind.

That the sun will not rise to-morrow

that it will rise.

It may, therefore, be a subject worthy of curiosity, to enquire what is the nature of that evidence which assures us of any

real existence and matter of fact, beyond the present testimony of our senses, or the records of our memory. This part of

philosophy, it is observable, has been little cultivated, either by the ancients or moderns; and therefore our doubts and

errors, in the prosecution of so important an enquiry, may be the more excusable; while we march through such difficult

paths without any guide or direction. They may even prove useful, by exciting curiosity, and destroying that implicit faith and

security, which is the bane of all reasoning and free enquiry. The discovery of defects in the common philosophy, if any such

there be, will not, I presume, be a discouragement, but rather an incitement, as is usual, to attempt something more full and

satisfactory than has yet been proposed to the public.

All reasonings concerning matter of fact seem to be founded on the relation of By means of that relation

alone we can go beyond the evidence of our memory and senses. If you were to ask a man, why he believes any matter of

fact, which is absent; for instance, that his friend is in the country, or in France; he would give you a reason; and this reason

would be some other fact; as a letter received from him, or the knowledge of his former resolutions and promises. A man

Cause and Effect.

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finding a watch or any other machine in a desert island, would conclude that there had once been men in that island. All our

reasonings concerning fact are of the same nature. And here it is constantly supposed that there is a connexion between the

present fact and that which is inferred from it. Were there nothing to bind them together, the inference would be entirely

precarious. The hearing of an articulate voice and rational discourse in the dark assures us of the presence of some person:

Why? because these are the effects of the human make and fabric, and closely connected with it. If we anatomize all the

other reasonings of this nature, we shall find that they are founded on the relation of cause and effect, and that this relation

is either near or remote, direct or collateral. Heat and light are collateral effects of fire, and the one effect may justly be

inferred from the other.

If we would satisfy ourselves, therefore, concerning the nature of that evidence, which assures us of matters of fact, we must

enquire how we arrive at the knowledge of cause and effect.

I shall venture to affirm, as a general proposition, which admits of no exception, that the knowledge of this relation is not, in

any instance, attained by reasonings but arises entirely from experience, when we find that any particular objects

are constantly conjoined with each other. Let an object be presented to a man of ever so strong natural reason and abilities;

if that object be entirely new to him, he will not be able, by the most accurate examination of its sensible qualities, to

discover any of its causes or effects. Adam, though his rational faculties be supposed, at the very first, entirely perfect, could

not have inferred from the fluidity and transparency of water that it would suffocate him, or from the light and warmth of

fire that it would consume him. No object ever discovers, by the qualities which appear to the senses, either the causes which

produced it, or the effects which will arise from it; nor can our reason, unassisted by experience, ever draw any inference

concerning real existence and matter of fact.

a priori;

This proposition, will readily be admitted with

regard to such objects, as we remember to have once been altogether unknown to us; since we must be conscious of the

utter inability, which we then lay under, of foretelling what would arise from them. Present two smooth pieces of marble to a

man who has no tincture of natural philosophy; he will never discover that they will adhere together in such a manner as to

require great force to separate them in a direct line, while they make so small a resistance to a lateral pressure. Such

events, as bear little analogy to the common course of nature, are also readily confessed to be known only by experience;

nor does any man imagine that the explosion of gunpowder, or the attraction of a loadstone, could ever be discovered by

arguments In like manner, when an effect is supposed to depend upon an intricate machinery or secret structure of

parts, we make no difficulty in attributing all our knowledge of it to experience. Who will assert that he can give the ultimate

reason, why milk or bread is proper nourishment for a man, not for a lion or a tiger?

that causes and effects are discoverable, not by reason but by experience,

a priori.

But the same truth may not appear, at first sight, to have the same evidence with regard to events, which have become

familiar to us from our first appearance in the world, which bear a close analogy to the whole course of nature, and which are

supposed to depend on the simple qualities of objects, without any secret structure of parts. We are apt to imagine that we

could discover these effects by the mere operation of our reason, without experience. We fancy, that were we brought on a

sudden into this world, we could at first have inferred that one Billiard-ball would communicate motion to another upon

impulse; and that we needed not to have waited for the event, in order to pronounce with certainty concerning it. Such is the

influence of custom, that, where it is strongest, it not only covers our natural ignorance, but even conceals itself, and seems

not to take place, merely because it is found in the highest degree.

But to convince us that all the laws of nature, and all the operations of bodies without exception, are known only by

experience, the following reflections may, perhaps, suffice. Were any object presented to us, and were we required to

pronounce concerning the effect, which will result from it, without consulting past observation; after what manner, I beseech

you, must the mind proceed in this operation? It must invent or imagine some event, which it ascribes to the object as its

effect; and it is plain that this invention must be entirely arbitrary. The mind can never possibly find the effect in the

supposed cause, by the most accurate scrutiny and examination. For the effect is totally different from the cause, and

consequently can never be discovered in it. Motion in the second Billiard-ball is a quite distinct event from motion in the first;

nor is there anything in the one to suggest the smallest hint of the other. A stone or piece of metal raised into the air, and

left without any support, immediately falls: but to consider the matter is there anything we discover in this situation

which can beget the idea of a downward, rather than an upward, or any other motion, in the stone or metal?

a priori,

And as the first imagination or invention of a particular effect, in all natural operations, is arbitrary, where we consult not

experience; so must we also esteem the supposed tie or connexion between the cause and effect, which binds them together,

and renders it impossible that any other effect could result from the operation of that cause. When I see, for instance, a

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Billiard-ball moving in a straight line towards another; even suppose motion in the second ball should by accident be

suggested to me, as the result of their contact or impulse; may I not conceive, that a hundred different events might as well

follow from that cause? May not both these balls remain at absolute rest? May not the first ball return in a straight line, or

leap off from the second in any line or direction? All these suppositions are consistent and conceivable. Why then should we

give the preference to one, which is no more consistent or conceivable than the rest? All our reasonings will never be

able to show us any foundation for this preference.

a priori

In a word, then, every effect is a distinct event from its cause. It could not, therefore, be discovered in the cause, and the

first invention or conception of it, must be entirely arbitrary. And even after it is suggested, the conjunction of it

with the cause must appear equally arbitrary; since there are always many other effects, which, to reason, must seem fully

as consistent and natural. In vain, therefore, should we pretend to determine any single event, or infer any cause or effect,

without the assistance of observation and experience.

a priori,

Hence we may discover the reason why no philosopher, who is rational and modest, has ever pretended to assign the

ultimate cause of any natural operation, or to show distinctly the action of that power, which produces any single effect in the

universe. It is confessed, that the utmost effort of human reason is to reduce the principles, productive of natural

phenomena, to a greater simplicity, and to resolve the many particular effects into a few general causes, by means of

reasonings from analogy, experience, and observation. But as to the causes of these general causes, we should in vain

attempt their discovery; nor shall we ever be able to satisfy ourselves, by any particular explication of them. These ultimate

springs and principles are totally shut up from human curiosity and enquiry. Elasticity, gravity, cohesion of parts,

communication of motion by impulse; these are probably the ultimate causes and principles which we shall ever discover in

nature; and we may esteem ourselves sufficiently happy, if, by accurate enquiry and reasoning, we can trace up the

particular phenomena to, or near to, these general principles. The most perfect philosophy of the natural kind only staves off

our ignorance a little longer: as perhaps the most perfect philosophy of the moral or metaphysical kind serves only to

discover larger portions of it. Thus the observation of human blindness and weakness is the result of all philosophy, and

meets us at every turn, in spite of our endeavours to elude or avoid it.

Nor is geometry, when taken into the assistance of natural philosophy, ever able to remedy this defect, or lead us into the

knowledge of ultimate causes, by all that accuracy of reasoning for which it is so justly celebrated. Every part of mixed

mathematics proceeds upon the supposition that certain laws are established by nature in her operations; and abstract

reasonings are employed, either to assist experience in the discovery of these laws, or to determine their influence in

particular instances, where it depends upon any precise degree of distance and quantity. Thus, it is a law of motion,

discovered by experience, that the moment or force of any body in motion is in the compound ratio or proportion of its solid

contents and its velocity; and consequently, that a small force may remove the greatest obstacle or raise the greatestweight, if, by any contrivance or machinery, we can increase the velocity of that force, so as to make it an overmatch for its

antagonist. Geometry assists us in the application of this law, by giving us the just dimensions of all the parts and figures

which can enter into any species of machine; but still the discovery of the law itself is owing merely to experience, and all

the abstract reasonings in the world could never lead us one step towards the knowledge of it. When we reason and

consider merely any object or cause, as it appears to the mind, independent of all observation, it never could suggest to us

the notion of any distinct object, such as its effect; much less, show us the inseparable and inviolable connexion between

them. A man must be very sagacious who could discover by reasoning that crystal is the effect of heat, and ice of cold,

without being previously acquainted with the operation of these qualities.

a priori,

II.PART

But we have not yet attained any tolerable satisfaction with regard to the question first proposed. Each solution still gives riseto a new question as difficult as the foregoing, and leads us on to farther enquiries. When it is asked,

the proper answer seems to be, that they are founded on the relation of cause

and effect. When again it is asked, it

may be replied in one word, Experience. But if we still carry on our sifting humour, and ask,

this implies a new question, which may be of more difficult solution and explication.

Philosophers, that give themselves airs of superior wisdom and sufficiency, have a hard task when they encounter persons of

inquisitive dispositions, who push them from every corner to which they retreat, and who are sure at last to bring them to

some dangerous dilemma. The best expedient to prevent this confusion, is to be modest in our pretensions; and even to

discover the difficulty ourselves before it is objected to us. By this means, we may make a kind of merit of our very

What is the nature of

all our reasonings concerning matter of fact?

What is the foundation of all our reasonings and conclusions concerning that relation?

What is the foundation of all

conclusions from experience?

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ignorance.

I shall content myself, in this section, with an easy task, and shall pretend only to give a negative answer to the question

here proposed. I say then, that, even after we have experience of the operations of cause and effect, our conclusions from

that experience are founded on reasoning, or any process of the understanding. This answer we must endeavour both to

explain and to defend.

not

It must certainly be allowed, that nature has kept us at a great distance from all her secrets, and has afforded us only the

knowledge of a few superficial qualities of objects; while she conceals from us those powers and principles on which the

influence of those objects entirely depends. Our senses inform us of the colour, weight, and consistence of bread; but neithersense nor reason can ever inform us of those qualities which fit it for the nourishment and support of a human body. Sight or

feeling conveys an idea of the actual motion of bodies; but as to that wonderful force or power, which would carry on a

moving body for ever in a continued change of place, and which bodies never lose but by communicating it to others; of this

we cannot form the most distant conception. But notwithstanding this ignorance of natural powers and principles, we always

presume, when we see like sensible qualities, that they have like secret powers, and expect that effects, similar to those

which we have experienced, will follow from them. If a body of like colour and consistence with that bread, which we have

formerly eat, be presented to us, we make no scruple of repeating the experiment, and foresee, with certainty, like

nourishment and support. Now this is a process of the mind or thought, of which I would willingly know the foundation. It is

allowed on all hands that there is no known connexion between the sensible qualities and the secret powers; and

consequently, that the mind is not led to form such a conclusion concerning their constant and regular conjunction, by

anything which it knows of their nature. As to past it can be allowed to give and information of

those precise objects only, and that precise period of time, which fell under its cognizance: but why this experience should be

extended to future times, and to other objects, which for aught we know, may be only in appearance similar; this is the main

question on which I would insist. The bread, which I formerly eat, nourished me; that is, a body of such sensible qualities

was, at that time, endued with such secret powers: but does it follow, that other bread must also nourish me at another

time, and that like sensible qualities must always be attended with like secret powers? The consequence seems nowise

necessary. At least, it must be acknowledged that there is here a consequence drawn by the mind; that there is a certain

step taken; a process of thought, and an inference, which wants to be explained. These two propositions are far from being

the same, and

I shall allow, if you please, that the one proposition

may justly be inferred from the other: I know, in fact, that it always is inferred. But if you insist that the inference is made

by a chain of reasoning, I desire you to produce that reasoning. The connexion between these propositions is not intuitive.

There is required a medium, which may enable the mind to draw such an inference, if indeed it be drawn by reasoning and

argument. What that medium is, I must confess, passes my comprehension; and it is incumbent on those to produce it, who

assert that it really exists, and is the origin of all our conclusions concerning matter of fact.

1

Experience, direct certain

I have found that such an object has always been attended with such an effect, I foresee, that other objects,

which are, in appearance, similar, will be attended with similar effects.

This negative argument must certainly, in process of time, become altogether convincing, if many penetrating and able

philosophers shall turn their enquiries this way and no one be ever able to discover any connecting proposition or intermediate

step, which supports the understanding in this conclusion. But as the question is yet new, every reader may not trust so far to

his own penetration, as to conclude, because an argument escapes his enquiry, that therefore it does not really exist. For this

reason it may be requisite to venture upon a more difficult task; and enumerating all the branches of human knowledge,

endeavour to show that none of them can afford such an argument.

All reasonings may be divided into two kinds, namely, demonstrative reasoning, or that concerning relations of ideas, and

moral reasoning, or that concerning matter of fact and existence. That there are no demonstrative arguments in the case

seems evident; since it implies no contradiction that the course of nature may change, and that an object, seemingly likethose which we have experienced, may be attended with different or contrary effects. May I not clearly and distinctly

conceive that a body, falling from the clouds, and which, in all other respects, resembles snow, has yet the taste of salt or

feeling of fire? Is there any more intelligible proposition than to affirm, that all the trees will flourish in December and

January, and decay in May and June? Now whatever is intelligible, and can be distinctly conceived, implies no contradiction,

and can never be proved false by any demonstrative argument or abstract reasoning priori.

If we be, therefore, engaged by arguments to put trust in past experience, and make it the standard of our future judgement,

these arguments must be probable only, or such as regard matter of fact and real existence, according to the division above

mentioned. But that there is no argument of this kind, must appear, if our explication of that species of reasoning be

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admitted as solid and satisfactory. We have said that all arguments concerning existence are founded on the relation of cause

and effect; that our knowledge of that relation is derived entirely from experience; and that all our experimental conclusions

proceed upon the supposition that the future will be conformable to the past. To endeavour, therefore, the proof of this last

supposition by probable arguments, or arguments regarding existence, must be evidently going in a circle, and taking that for

granted, which is the very point in question.

In reality, all arguments from experience are founded on the similarity which we discover among natural objects, and by

which we are induced to expect effects similar to those which we have found to follow from such objects. And though none

but a fool or madman will ever pretend to dispute the authority of experience, or to reject that great guide of human life, it

may surely be allowed a philosopher to have so much curiosity at least as to examine the principle of human nature, which

gives this mighty authority to experience, and makes us draw advantage from that similarity which nature has placed among

different objects. From causes which appear we expect similar effects. This is the sum of all our experimental

conclusions. Now it seems evident that, if this conclusion were formed by reason, it would be as perfect at first, and upon

one instance, as after ever so long a course of experience. But the case is far otherwise. Nothing so like as eggs; yet no one,

on account of this appearing similarity, expects the same taste and relish in all of them. It is only after a long course of

uniform experiments in any kind, that we attain a firm reliance and security with regard to a particular event. Now where is

that process of reasoning which, from one instance, draws a conclusion, so different from that which it infers from a hundred

instances that are nowise different from that single one? This question I propose as much for the sake of information, as with

an intention of raising difficulties. I cannot find, I cannot imagine any such reasoning. But I keep my mind still open to

instruction, if any one will vouchsafe to bestow it on me.

similar

Should it be said that, from a number of uniform experiments, we a connexion between the sensible qualities and thesecret powers; this, I must confess, seems the same difficulty, couched in different terms. The question still recurs, on what

process of argument this is founded? Where is the medium, the interposing ideas, which join propositions so very

wide of each other? It is confessed that the colour, consistence, and other sensible qualities of bread appear not, of

themselves, to have any connexion with the secret powers of nourishment and support. For otherwise we could infer these

secret powers from the first appearance of these sensible qualities, without the aid of experience; contrary to the sentiment

of all philosophers, and contrary to plain matter of fact. Here, then, is our natural state of ignorance with regard to the

powers and influence of all objects. How is this remedied by experience? It only shows us a number of uniform effects,

resulting from certain objects, and teaches us that those particular objects, at that particular time, were endowed with such

powers and forces. When a new object, endowed with similar sensible qualities, is produced, we expect similar powers and

forces, and look for a like effect. From a body of like colour and consistence with bread we expect like nourishment and

support. But this surely is a step or progress of the mind, which wants to be explained. When a man says,

And when he says,he is not guilty of a tautology, nor are these propositions in any respect the

same. You say that the one proposition is an inference from the other. But you must confess that the inference is not

intuitive; neither is it demonstrative: Of what nature is it, then? To say it is experimental, is begging the question. For all

inferences from experience suppose, as their foundation, that the future will resemble the past, and that similar powers will

be conjoined with similar sensible qualities. If there be any suspicion that the course of nature may change, and that the past

may be no rule for the future, all experience becomes useless, and can give rise to no inference or conclusion. It is

impossible, therefore, that any arguments from experience can prove this resemblance of the past to the future; since all

these arguments are founded on the supposition of that resemblance. Let the course of things be allowed hitherto ever so

regular; that alone, without some new argument or inference, proves not that, for the future, it will continue so. In vain do

you pretend to have learned the nature of bodies from your past experience. Their secret nature, and consequently all their

effects and influence, may change, without any change in their sensible qualities. This happens sometimes, and with regard

to some objects: Why may it not happen always, and with regard to all objects? What logic, what process of argumentsecures you against this supposition? My practice, you say, refutes my doubts. But you mistake the purport of my question.

As an agent, I am quite satisfied in the point; but as a philosopher, who has some share of curiosity, I will not say

scepticism, I want to learn the foundation of this inference. No reading, no enquiry has yet been able to remove my

difficulty, or give me satisfaction in a matter of such importance. Can I do better than propose the difficulty to the public,

even though, perhaps, I have small hopes of obtaining a solution? We shall at least, by this means, be sensible of our

ignorance, if we do not augment our knowledge.

infer

inference

I have found, in

all past instances, such sensible qualities conjoined with such secret powers: Similar sensible qualities willalways be conjoined with similar secret powers,

I must confess that a man is guilty of unpardonable arrogance who concludes, because an argument has escaped his own

investigation, that therefore it does not really exist. I must also confess that, though all the learned, for several ages, should

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have employed themselves in fruitless search upon any subject, it may still, perhaps, be rash to conclude positively that the

subject must, therefore, pass all human comprehension. Even though we examine all the sources of our knowledge, and

conclude them unfit for such a subject, there may still remain a suspicion, that the enumeration is not complete, or the

examination not accurate. But with regard to the present subject, there are some considerations which seem to remove all

this accusation of arrogance or suspicion of mistake.

It is certain that the most ignorant and stupid peasantsnay infants, nay even brute beastsimprove by experience, and

learn the qualities of natural objects, by observing the effects which result from them. When a child has felt the sensation of

pain from touching the flame of a candle, he will be careful not to put his hand near any candle; but will expect a similar

effect from a cause which is similar in its sensible qualities and appearance. If you assert, therefore, that the understanding

of the child is led into this conclusion by any process of argument or ratiocination, I may justly require you to produce that

argument; nor have you any pretence to refuse so equitable a demand. You cannot say that the argument is abstruse, and

may possibly escape your enquiry; since you confess that it is obvious to the capacity of a mere infant. If you hesitate,

therefore, a moment, or if, after reflection, you produce any intricate or profound argument, you, in a manner, give up the

question, and confess that it is not reasoning which engages us to suppose the past resembling the future, and to expect

similar effects from causes which are, to appearance, similar. This is the proposition which I intended to enforce in the

present section. If I be right, I pretend not to have made any mighty discovery. And if I be wrong, I must acknowledge

myself to be indeed a very backward scholar; since I cannot now discover an argument which, it seems, was perfectly

familiar to me long before I was out of my cradle.

SECTION V. SCEPTICALSOLUTIONOFTHESEDOUBTS.

I.PART

passion for philosophy, like that for religion, seems liable to this inconvenience, that, though it aims at the correction of

our manners, and extirpation of our vices, it may only serve, by imprudent management, to foster a predominant inclination,

and push the mind, with more determined resolution, towards that side which already too much, by the bias and

propensity of the natural temper. It is certain that, while we aspire to the magnanimous firmness of the philosophic sage,

and endeavour to confine our pleasures altogether within our own minds, we may, at last, render our philosophy like that of

Epictetus, and other only a more refined system of selfishness, and reason ourselves out of all virtue as well as social

enjoyment. While we study with attention the vanity of human life, and turn all our thoughts towards the empty and

transitory nature of riches and honours, we are, perhaps, all the while flattering our natural indolence, which, hating the

bustle of the world, and drudgery of business, seeks a pretence of reason to give itself a full and uncontrolled indulgence.

There is, however, one species of philosophy which seems little liable to this inconvenience, and that because it strikes in

with no disorderly passion of the human mind, nor can mingle itself with any natural affection or propensity; and that is the

Academic or Sceptical philosophy. The academics always talk of doubt and suspense of judgement, of danger in hasty

determinations, of confining to very narrow bounds the enquiries of the understanding, and of renouncing all speculations

which lie not within the limits of common life and practice. Nothing, therefore, can be more contrary than such a philosophy

to the supine indolence of the mind, its rash arrogance, its lofty pretensions, and its superstitious credulity. Every passion is

mortified by it, except the love of truth; and that passion never is, nor can be, carried to too high a degree. It is surprising,

therefore, that this philosophy, which, in almost every instance, must be harmless and innocent, should be the subject of so

much groundless reproach and obloquy. But, perhaps, the very circumstance which renders it so innocent is what chiefly

exposes it to the public hatred and resentment. By flattering no irregular passion, it gains few partizans: By opposing so

many vices and follies, it raises to itself abundance of enemies, who stigmatize it as libertine profane, and irreligious.

THE

draws

Stoics,

Nor need we fear that this philosophy, while it endeavours to limit our enquiries to common life, should ever undermine thereasonings of common life, and carry its doubts so far as to destroy all action, as well as speculation. Nature will always

maintain her rights, and prevail in the end over any abstract reasoning whatsoever. Though we should conclude, for instance,

as in the foregoing section, that, in all reasonings from experience, there is a step taken by the mind which is not supported

by any argument or process of the understanding; there is no danger that these reasonings, on which almost all knowledge

depends, will ever be affected by such a discovery. If the mind be not engaged by argument to make this step, it must be

induced by some other principle of equal weight and authority; and that principle will preserve its influence as long as human

nature remains the same. What that principle is may well be worth the pains of enquiry.

Suppose a person, though endowed with the strongest faculties of reason and reflection, to be brought on a sudden into this

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world; he would, indeed, immediately observe a continual succession of objects, and one event following another; but he

would not be able to discover anything farther. He would not, at first, by any reasoning, be able to reach the idea of cause

and effect; since the particular powers, by which all natural operations are performed, never appear to the senses; nor is it

reasonable to conclude, merely because one event, in one instance, precedes another, that therefore the one is the cause,

the other the effect. Their conjunction may be arbitrary and casual. There may be no reason to infer the existence of one

from the appearance of the other. And in a word, such a person, without more experience, could never employ his conjecture

or reasoning concerning any matter of fact, or be assured of anything beyond what was immediately present to his memory

and senses.

Suppose, again, that he has acquired more experience, and has lived so long in the world as to have observed familiar

objects or events to be constantly conjoined together; what is the consequence of this experience? He immediately infers the

existence of one object from the appearance of the other. Yet he has not, by all his experience, acquired any idea or

knowledge of the secret power by which the one object produces the other; nor is it, by any process of reasoning, he is

engaged to draw this inference. But still he finds himself determined to draw it: And though he should be convinced that his

understanding has no part in the operation, he would nevertheless continue in the same course of thinking. There is some

other principle which determines him to form such a conclusion.

This principle is Custom or Habit. For wherever the repetition of any particular act or operation produces a propensity to

renew the same act or operation, without being impelled by any reasoning or process of the understanding, we always say,

that this propensity is the effect of By employing that word, we pretend not to have given the ultimate reason of

such a propensity. We only point out a principle of human nature, which is universally acknowledged, and which is well known

by its effects. Perhaps we can push our enquiries no farther, or pretend to give the cause of this cause; but must restcontented with it as the ultimate principle, which we can assign, of all our conclusions from experience. It is sufficient

satisfaction, that we can go so far, without repining at the narrowness of our faculties because they will carry us no farther.

And it is certain we here advance a very intelligible proposition at least, if not a true one, when we assert that, after the

constant conjunction of two objectsheat and flame, for instance, weight and soliditywe are determined by custom alone to

expect the one from the appearance of the other. This hypothesis seems even the only one which explains the difficulty, why

we draw, from a thousand instances, an inference which we are not able to draw from one instance, that is, in no respect,

different from them. Reason is incapable of any such variation. The conclusions which it draws from considering one circle are

the same which it would form upon surveying all the circles in the universe. But no man, having seen only one body move

after being impelled by another, could infer that every other body will move after a like impulse. All inferences from

experience, therefore, are effects of custom, not of reasoning .

Custom.

1

Custom, then, is the great guide of human life. It is that principle alone which renders our experience useful to us, andmakes us expect, for the future, a similar train of events with those which have appeared in the past. Without the influence

of custom, we should be entirely ignorant of every matter of fact beyond what is immediately present to the memory and

senses. We should never know how to adjust means to ends, or to employ our natural powers in the production of any effect.

There would be an end at once of all action, as well as of the chief part of speculation.

But here it may be proper to remark, that though our conclusions from experience carry us beyond our memory and senses,

and assure us of matters of fact which happened in the most distant places and most remote ages, yet some fact must

always be present to the senses or memory, from which we may first proceed in drawing these conclusions. A man, who

should find in a desert country the remains of pompous buildings, would conclude that the country had, in ancient times, been

cultivated by civilized inhabitants; but did nothing of this nature occur to him, he could never form such an inference. We

learn the events of former ages from history; but then we must peruse the volumes in which this instruction is contained, and

thence carry up our inferences from one testimony to another, till we arrive at the eyewitnesses and spectators of thesedistant events. In a word, if we proceed not upon some fact, present to the memory or senses, our reasonings would be

merely hypothetical; and however the particular links might be connected with each other, the whole chain of inferences

would have nothing to support it, nor could we ever, by its means, arrive at the knowledge of any real existence. If I ask

why you believe any particular matter of fact, which you relate, you must tell me some reason; and this reason will be some

other fact, connected with it. But as you cannot proceed after this manner, you must at last terminate in some

fact, which is present to your memory or senses; or must allow that your belief is entirely without foundation.

in infinitum,

What, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter? A simple one; though, it must be confessed, pretty remote from the

common theories of philosophy. All belief of matter of fact or real existence is derived merely from some object, present to

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the memory or senses, and a customary conjunction between that and some other object. Or in other words; having found, in

many instances, that any two kinds of objectsflame and heat, snow and coldhave always been conjoined together; if

flame or snow be presented anew to the senses, the mind is carried by custom to expect heat or cold, and to that

such a quality does exist, and will discover itself upon a nearer approach. This belief is the necessary result of placing the

mind in such circumstances. It is an operation of the soul, when we are so situated, as unavoidable as to feel the passion of

love, when we receive benefits; or hatred, when we meet with injuries. All these operations are a species of natural instincts,

which no reasoning or process of the thought and understanding is able either to produce or to prevent.

believe

At this point, it would be very allowable for us to stop our philosophical researches. In most questions we can never make a

single step farther; and in all questions we must terminate here at last, after our most restless and curious enquiries. But still

our curiosity will be pardonable, perhaps commendable, if it carry us on to still farther researches, and make us examine

more accurately the nature of this and of the whence it is derived. By this means we may

meet with some explications and analogies that will give satisfaction; at least to such as love the abstract sciences, and can

be entertained with speculations, which, however accurate, may still retain a degree of doubt and uncertainty. As to readers

of a different taste; the remaining part of this section is not calculated for them, and the following enquiries may well be

understood, though it be neglected.

belief, customary conjunction,

II.PART

Nothing is more free than the imagination of man; and though it cannot exceed that original stock of ideas furnished by the

internal and external senses, it has unlimited power of mixing, compounding, separating, and dividing these ideas, in all the

varieties of fiction and vision. It can feign a train of events, with all the appearance of reality, ascribe to them a particular

time and place, conceive them as existent, and paint them out to itself with every circumstance, that belongs to any

historical fact, which it believes with the greatest certainty. Wherein, therefore, consists the difference between such a fiction

and belief? It lies not merely in any peculiar idea, which is annexed to such a conception as commands our assent, and which

is wanting to every known fiction. For as the mind has authority over all its ideas, it could voluntarily annex this particular

idea to any fiction, and consequently be able to believe whatever it pleases; contrary to what we find by daily experience.

We can, in our conception, join the head of a man to the body of a horse; but it is not in our power to believe that such an

animal has ever really existed.

It follows, therefore, that the difference between and lies in some sentiment or feeling, which is annexed to the

latter, not to the former, and which depends not on the will, nor can be commanded at pleasure. It must be excited by

nature, like all other sentiments; and must arise from the particular situation, in which the mind is placed at any particular

juncture. Whenever any object is presented to the memory or senses, it immediately, by the force of custom, carries theimagination to conceive that object, which is usually conjoined to it; and this conception is attended with a feeling or

sentiment, different from the loose reveries of the fancy. In this consists the whole nature of belief. For as there is no matter

of fact which we believe so firmly that we cannot conceive the contrary, there would be no difference between the conception

assented to and that which is rejected, were it not for some sentiment which distinguishes the one from the other. If I see a

billiard-ball moving towards another, on a smooth table, I can easily conceive it to stop upon contact. This conception implies

no contradiction; but still it feels very differently from that conception by which I represent to myself the impulse and the

communication of motion from one ball to another.

fiction belief

Were we to attempt a of this sentiment, we should, perhaps, find it a very difficult, if not an impossible task; in

the same manner as if we should endeavour to define the feeling of cold or passion of anger, to a creature who never had

any experience of these sentiments. Belief is the true and proper name of this feeling; and no one is ever at a loss to know

the meaning of that term; because every man is every moment conscious of the sentiment represented by it. It may not,however, be improper to attempt a of this sentiment; in hopes we may, by that means, arrive at some analogies,

which may afford a more perfect explication of it. I say, then, that belief is nothing but a more vivid, lively, forcible, firm,

steady conception of an object, than what the imagination alone is ever able to attain. This variety of terms, which may

seem so unphilosophical, is intended only to express that act of the mind, which renders realities, or what is taken for such,

more present to us than fictions, causes them to weigh more in the thought, and gives them a superior influence on the

passions and imagination. Provided we agree about the thing, it is needless to dispute about the terms. The imagination has

the command over all its ideas, and can join and mix and vary them, in all the ways possible. It may conceive fictitious

objects with all the circumstances of place and time. It may set them, in a manner, before our eyes, in their true colours,

just as they might have existed. But as it is impossible that this faculty of imagination can ever, of itself, reach belief, it is

definition

description

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more nearly than when I am two hundred leagues distant; though even at that distance the reflecting on any thing in the

neighbourhood of my friends or family naturally produces an idea of them. But as in this latter case, both the objects of the

mind are ideas; notwithstanding there is an easy transition between them; that transition alone is not able to give a superior

vivacity to any of the ideas, for want of some immediate impression1

No one can doubt but causation has the same influence as the other two relations of resemblance and contiguity.

Superstitious people are fond of the reliques of saints and holy men, for the same reason, that they seek after types or

images, in order to

Hume Understanding 1738

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